The bean pole person was strolling Trader Joe’s aisles, just ahead of me and my cart, head wheeling around like a tourist.
At the end of the aisle she turned, and I realized that the bean pole was a female, not a man. Previously I’d only observed a closely shaved head atop a plain blanket with sandals on the bare feet. She was swathed in the faded burgundy of a Dalia Lama acolyte.
Sucking on a vanilla frozen yogurt cone –
That’s what peace and joy advocates do in free time. Simple, adorable pleasures to pass the time. There must not be any Trader Joe stores in Tibet. No Golden Spoon franchises to dole out sweet treats.
I wondered what the woman’s role had been: front row, back stage, or on the stage, for she was clearly close to the man…
Who had just ended an enormous event at the Bren Center.
Two miles from my house, where peace and joy also reside.